


Snowstorm on Brooklyn

by Rosesnfeathers



Series: Seasons roll on by [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-08 13:54:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8847640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosesnfeathers/pseuds/Rosesnfeathers
Summary: But Steve is okay with it, Steve is okay with every part of him, the new ones and the old ones. With every scar, every smile. Some days he feels like not getting out of their bed and stare at the white walls of their room because he is paralyzed by fear and guilt. But there are also happier ones when he wants to go outside with Steve and hold his hand because in years and years of going through winter, holding Steve’s hand feels like summer.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [softstuckyweek2k16](https://softstuckyweek.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. Because I can only write fluff and because these 2 really deserve a bit of softness. Thanks to Heather (who basically saved this fic) to Kiki who dragged me (yes, that's what you did) in the Stucky fandom and thanks to Lau too, who gladly read it and gave me her opinion. Hope you enjoy this :)

 

Bucky sits in complete silence, with his legs crossed, in front of the big windows of their living room. There is a soft and warm blanket wrapped around his shoulders and it smells so much like Steve it’s almost like he can feel his strong arms around him. Keeping him warm and safe. 

 

Always. 

 

He is still shirtless, his sleeping pants a bit too long for him, hiding his toes from the cold winter air surrounding him.

 

He doesn’t feel the cold as much as he did before, thanks to the serum, but his toes are always frozen. And each time, he feels 18 again, shoving them under Steve skinny thighs and asking the blond boy to warm them up. 

 

Even though Steve was always cold himself back then, shivering and struggling to keep his own self warm, it was worth it every time for the smile lighting up his face. Bucky knew it was an occasion for the other boy to take care of Bucky when it was usually (pretty much always) the other way around.

 

Another small detail bringing nice memories from before.

 

It’s snowing for the first time on Brooklyn this year. Soft, fluffy snowflakes falling slowly, filling the dark blue sky, glowing in warm shades of orange under the street lights. 

 

He woke up maybe an hour ago and turned around to face the window and saw it was snowing outside. Unable to fall back asleep, he grabbed a blanket and walked in the living room to watch it peacefully, without waking Steve up as well.

 

He forgot, winter could be nice. He mostly remembers the cold and the snow from when he was the Winter Soldier. When he had missions in the frosty russian winter, waiting days and days, sometimes, for his mark to show up. He also remembers when they trained him outside, the cold making its way in his blood and right to his bones. 

 

And he forgot a lot of things about those missions. about training too. He forgot, sadly, the faces and names of most of the people he killed, or why he had to do it. 

 

But the cold, the cold is still all over his memories. 

 

He remembers so much snow he thought he was going to die under it all. He remembers the way the metal of his left arm was going a bit rigid and stiff in the never ending snowstorms of Siberia. Remembers how the wind was hurting his face, how the tip of his hair looked like icicles and how sometimes, it was ice falling from the sky, leaving the skin of his face red and numb. 

 

For so long, winter was violence, pain. Winter was nothing but the insistent melody of the wind hitting the windows of that empty warehouse he was hiding in, in the middle of nowhere, in a no man’s land full of ice and snow. Endless blinding white for miles and miles and sometimes he was unable to see a few feet in front of him in the middle of a blizzard.

 

Cold was also a memory of all the times he was sent back to cryo in between mission. Chill so intense it was hurting straight in his bones and he felt like they were all going to snap and break in million pieces, every time. 

 

But he forgot, winter could be pretty. 

 

_ He sees Steve when they were only children. Steve wrapped in a big scarf his mother made him, hair hidden under a hat also too big for him. Snowflakes caught in his long lashes, cheeks pink and lips red from the biting cold _ . 

 

Yeah, winter could be pretty.

 

He holds the blanket a bit tighter around himself and he smiles, feeling warmth spreading in his veins whenever a memory from before comes back. Steve says he needs to let them come to him, not to force anything. And it feels like a small victory every single time.

 

It’s like, slowly, but surely, he’s getting control of his own mind again. It’s like the Winter Soldier takes a step back and James Buchanan Barnes fights to be himself again. 

 

He is just sitting there, watching the snow covering Brooklyn’s ground in a soft white blanket. Looking as soft as the one he is comfortably wrapped into. He is waiting for the sleep to come back, for his limbs to get heavy again. Waiting to go back in the wonderful warmth of their bed, but mostly of Steve’s arms. 

 

Nothing ever felt warmer than the safe embrace of those familiar arms.

 

It’s so pretty outside and he knows it will snow again but it’s like this time feels more important. Like the first step of some important change. 

 

He needs to remember and understand the heavy, rough days of winter are behind him. That even if winter is blooming all over New York city, inside of him, winter is over. The cold iciness of the assassin he was for so long is melting away, the way he thought his old self was gone for good is also over. 

 

The sun is slowly rising inside of him again, warmth and happiness are slowly coming back in the form of golden blond hair under his fingertips and loving blue eyes, staring right into his own like he is the best thing to ever walk the earth. 

 

And they talk about it, how Steve knows the Winter Soldier was a big part of him for so long and how James might never completely come back. But Steve is okay with it, Steve is okay with every part of him, the new ones and the old ones. With every scar, every smile. 

 

Some days he feels like not getting out of their bed and stare at the white walls of their room because he is paralyzed by fear and guilt. But there are also happier ones when he wants to go outside with Steve and hold his hand because in years and years of going through winter, holding Steve’s hand feels like summer.  

 

At some point, Katerinka, their cat, pads softly towards him asking in her own way, what the hell Bucky is doing, sitting on the floor in the middle of the night. It’s something between a meow and a purr. Bucky swears there is a question mark at the end.

 

It’s always the little sound she greets him with. Sounds a lot like “You okay, buddy?”

 

She barely “speaks” to Steve, loves to climb on his lap and fall asleep there, loves to wake him up, to sit on his face to do so. She loves to annoy the shit out of him and even though he complains, Bucky has caught him more than once, smiling contently whenever she lets him pet her long enough without biting or scratching him.

 

His psychiatrist said an animal could be nice to help him recover, also suggested a dog could be a good idea. But Bucky wanted a cat. There is something oddly relaxing about a cat falling asleep on you. 

 

About the warm softness of their fur and the comforting vibration when they purr in total happiness. 

 

It helps Bucky’s breath to settle down to normal, helps the shake in his limbs to go away.

 

But as weird as it sounds, the damn cat seems worried about Bucky and more than once offered comfort before Bucky even realized he needed it. Natasha told him that’s why an animal was a good idea. Because they can feel it when you’re in distress, whatever kind of distress it is.

 

“ _ Катенька _ ,” Bucky whispers , scratching her between the ears with his metal fingers. It means  _ little pure one _ and Bucky thought of that name instantly when he saw her. 

 

She’s all white except for one black ear and a few black spots on her back. Bucky’s favorite thing is the tip of her tail, black too, like she accidentally dipped it in paint. 

 

He remembers the way Steve tried to pronounce her name the first time, how it made him laugh. 

 

Steve speaks and understands most of russian just fine but there is something a bit stiff and uncomfortable about his accent. Something foreign because, of course, there is nothing more american than Steven Grant Rogers.

 

_ “You could call her Kat, it would be easier for you.” _

 

_ “We can’t name our cat Kat, Buck. It’s ridiculous!” _

 

_ And that made Bucky giggle in Katerinka’s fur because it was exactly his kind of humour, he thought it was completely ironic and totally hilarious. _

 

_ When he looked back up at Steve, he was already looking at him. His smile, left a feeling around Bucky’s heart just as soft and pleasant as Katerinka’s fur under his fingers and in his eyes, despite their icy blue color, was a look full of love and fondness. Warmth. Steve always made him feel warm.  _

 

_ Bucky also noticed how every time he laughed, Steve gave him this look and it made him want to laugh and smile all the time. I’m getting there, he thought, smiling back at Steve, whispering “Kat the cat,” with mirth in his eyes. _

 

The cat makes her way on Bucky’s lap, pressing and pushing with her little white paws as if it would make Bucky more comfortable that way. At the same moment, Steve opens their bedroom door and walks silently towards him.

 

They make a great team, Steve and Katerinka, to make sure he is fine. It’s probably one of the only things they get along about. Taking care of Bucky. 

 

He is rubbing at his eyes, trying his best to chase the sleep away. He looks so young like that, looks like that little punk from Brooklyn Bucky fell in love with, way too many years ago. 

 

His legs are bare, toes curling against the cold floor. His golden hair is all over the place and even in the dark, Bucky can see a few pillow creases on his cheeks. He is wearing a t-shirt, a decent size this time, falling past his tight boxer briefs. Bucky swallows roughly because it looks like he isn’t wearing anything else that his soft looking red t-shirt.

 

He won’t ever stop being attracted to this man, to love him and want him. That is one of the only thing he is completely sure about in this crazy, hectic life they are living.

 

Steve drops next to him, without a word, lifting the corner of the blanket to join Bucky, wrapping an arm around his waist and leaving one lingering kiss on his shoulder before resting his head there. His hair tickles Bucky’s neck.

 

He doesn’t say anything for awhile, eyes still closed as his fingers join Bucky’s in Kat’s fur. Steve’s other hand is warm against the bare skin of his hip. 

 

_ Warm. Warm. Warm.  _

 

That’s all he thinks about, all he feels with Steve. Maybe that’s why winter is slowly melting away. Maybe that’s all he needed to melt the ice around his heart. 

 

A long time ago, he would have hated to feel this vulnerable but he is slowly accepting that it’s a part of his life now. Part of who he is and being vulnerable doesn’t mean he’s not strong anymore, doesn’t mean he’s weak either. It’s normal. And he craves normality more than anything else lately. 

 

But never more than he craves Steve.

 

Steve stops petting Katerinka to grab at Bucky’s hand instead, to play with his finger absently. He chuckles, making goosebumps raise on Bucky’s skin when Kat instantly starts to lick at the spot Steve was touching, like she needs to clean herself ASAP.

 

“She hates me.”

 

His voice goes deeper when it’s coated with sleep and it also goes deeper into Bucky’s heart. He loves that sleepy voice, the roughness to it even when it whispers the prettiest words to him.

 

“She does not. She’s my cat, it’s not even possible she hates you. She knows I love you so she loves you too. Just in her own way.”

 

A laugh, a kiss, dropped on his skin again. A silent  _ “I love you too.” _

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“Just watching the snow.”

 

Steve hums, not lifting his head off of Bucky’s shoulder, his hands still holding him but not too tight, never too tight. In case he needs to escape, in case it gets a bit too much. Sometimes it does but Steve never gets angry about it.

 

“Does it bring up some bad memories? Winter I mean…” 

 

His tone is careful, and it used to upset Bucky, being talked to like that, like he was broken, but now… Now he understand it’s another way from Steve to demonstrate how much he loves him, how he never wants to make him angry or sad.

 

“A few. But now, I remember winter can be nice. And pretty.”

 

“Just like you,” Steve says and Bucky can hear the smile in his voice

 

He pushes him away but can’t help the smile lighting up his face, “Shut it! I’m not  _ pretty _ !”

 

Steve just shakes his head, smiling even brighter than before, “I don’t know, when you’re smiling like that you’re really pretty.”

 

Bucky hides his red face in his hands and Katerinka walks away from them, looking angry she got disturbed in the middle of her bath, jumping on the couch instead where she can wash herself and sleep in peace. 

 

Steve laughs even louder now trying to remove Bucky’s hands from his face and wrestling him a bit until Bucky ends up on his back with Steve straddling him, “Did I just make you  _ blush _ ?”

 

“You’re such a jerk, get off!”

 

“Nah, I am enjoying the view.”

 

Steve reaches to cup Bucky’s warm cheek, the other pushing a few strands of dark hair away from his face. Leans down to press a soft, chaste kiss on his lips and smiles down at him. He is heavy on top of him but it’s welcomed, just like the blanket, very much alive but just as comforting. 

 

Steve rests a hand on top of Bucky’s heart, his features suddenly more serious than a few moments ago, “Winter is over. In here. I’ll keep you warm, I promise.”

 

Bucky closes his eyes because, wasn’t it exactly what he was thinking about just before Steve joined him? 

 

He loves it, that no matter how much the both of them have changed, they can still understand each other without a word. He loves that Steve still can read him as easily as he ever did.

 

Bucky reaches for Steve’s hand and brings it to his lips, leaving a kiss in the middle of his palm, “You are already. Pretty much the only thing to warm me up, inside and out.”

 

Steve, for just a few seconds, looks like he is in pain, but it quickly goes away as he leans in another time, pulling Bucky into a much more heated kiss this time. The kind that makes Bucky’s fingers pull at the blond strands of Steve’s hair, makes his toes curl in happiness. 

 

“You’re such a sap. Lucky we’re alone, your bad boy reputation would be ruined, Barnes.”

 

Bucky only kisses him again to shut him up and when Steve gets back on his feet, holding a hand to help him up, Bucky follows him to the bedroom without fighting it. He lets himself be pushed back in the softness of their bed, and pulled back against Steve’s chest, their legs getting tangled together like it’s second nature. 

 

“You know right? That I am really proud of you, Buck? That I don’t care really, at what pace you’re getting better or if  _ James _ never really comes back completely. I mean, I loved him back then but I know it’s not you anymore. I know you changed but I love what you are now just as much. And what you did, it’s in the past. You did horrible things, I won’t ever try to ignore that but… It’s behind us now. I don’t want you to try to be someone else, or try to get better too fast… It’s okay. I’ll wait as long as it take and I’ll support you through it all. I hope you know that right? I guess what I mean is…  I know winter can be pretty, and I am proud you’re seeing it too, now.”

 

“Thank you”

 

“I love you.”

 

Bucky looks back at him, resting his chin against Steve’s chest and he can see those blue eyes shining, even in the dark, those blue eyes full of so much more than the three little words he just spoke, “Aaaaw who’s the sap now, uh?”

 

Bucky is hit by a pillow just as Steve groans above him “I’m trying to be serious!”

 

Bucky just giggles, straddling Steve’s hip and holding onto him like a koala, “I know, but you’re making me happy and I love teasing you!”

 

Steve only sighs and wraps his arms around Bucky to hold him closer to him, pulling the blankets on top of both of them, dropping a kiss on the top of his head. 

 

Bucky still can see the snow falling by their bedroom window. The snowflakes look a bit bigger now, fluffier, almost like cotton balls. Under him Steve is solid and warm. He’s safe. 

 

Steve reminds him that even in the colder days of winter, the sun still can shine bright. 

 

Before closing his eyes and falling back asleep, his whispers “I love you too” and he knows Steve hears him with the way he holds on Bucky a bit tighter for a few seconds. There is no nightmare hunting his dream that night, only pleasant thoughts and of course, Steve. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [I'm on tumblr](http://rosesnfeathers.tumblr.com/) come say hi!
> 
> If you liked it you can buy me a Ko-Fi is you want :) http://ko-fi.com/rosesnfeathers


End file.
